Has Anyone Ever Had A More Disasterous Trip To The Local Bagel Joint Than Me? No, And Here's Why

No fooling! It’s another edition of The Gripe Report!

A very special one about a day which will live in infamy: the Great Bagel Debacle of ‘25.

Gather ‘round, kids. I’m flying solo this week because this gripe is a doozy.

In the meantime, be sure to follow The Gripe Report on X, Instagram, and/or Facebook to get in on the fun, or feel free to send your gripes by email.

Any and all are welcome, but food delivery, mobile order, and pick-up gripes are rather apropos this week.

Got a gripe? Send it in!: matthew.reigle@outkick.com

Now, allow me to take a few deep breaths while I relive one of the worst customer service experiences of my life.

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Alright, let’s go.

So, my fiancée and I recently moved into a new place, and the other week, I thought it would be a nice idea for us to drive over and pick my grandma up so she could see the place.

What a nice guy I am.

But here’s where the mistake was made: I decided that I would be extra nice and would bring some bagels from a local bagel joint.

I’ve been to this place a few times, and they do as good a job as you can when it comes to making bagels using the water we’ve got in Central Florida. This place started locally and has since been popping up franchises all over the place, so they’ve got an app that you can order from.

Now, these apps are supposed to make my life easier, but I think you can probably connect the dots that since I’m bringing it up in The Gripe Report… it did not do that.

I got up and placed an order for three bagels, three little cups of cream cheese, and one coffee.

That is it. 

Here's a photo of some bagels. Not unlike the ones I had a nightmare experience trying to pickup recently. (Getty Images)

I said I’d pick it all up at 9:30, and I was true to my word, rolling in at about 9:28 (I know this because I recall remarking to my fiancée like a stereotypical suburban white dude, "Look at that; right on time."

Now, this place was very busy. Good for them, bad for me. 

I stood in line and told them I had a mobile order, only for them to say that I should’ve just gone to the other counter, which had a bunch of other people impatiently waiting by it.

Again, because I ordered on the app and told them exactly what time I’d be there, I assumed the’d put everything in a bag, call my name, and I’d be on my merry way.

After a few minutes, I realized they didn’t start your order until you told them you were in the store. This was the first time of many that I muttered under my breath, "Then what the f–k is the point of the app?"

I told the woman working at the counter my name, and she went back to stuffing bagels in bags, none of which were mine.

I stood there another ten minutes before she finally turned her attention back on me.

Alright, I thought. It’s finally bagel time.

The woman looked at me and said, "Sorry, I forgot. What was your name?"

So now my bagels are even later, and also I’ve been reminded I have a forgettable face.

By this point, it’s at least 9:50, I’m still waiting for my order, and my fiancée has gone to wait in the car. I kept waiting, watching as order after order was filled… just not mine.

Then, one of the guys working in the store asked again if anyone had a mobile order. So, for the third time, I reminded them that my name is Matt and that, yes, I had a mobile order.

For. Three. God. Damn. Bagels.

Now, this may come as a surprise considering I’m the Gripe Report, but I can be patient to a fault. I tend to give people in service positions the benefit of the doubt that they’re doing the best they can, and they’re genuinely busy.

Well, by 10 AM, this wasn’t the case. By that point, I was standing right against the counter and the glass sneeze guard with arms folded, staring at the workers and occasionally glancing at the racks of bagels as if to non-verbally say, "Hey, howsabout you put three of those in a bag, and we can forget this ever happened?"

Again, my writing about this should tell you that it didn’t end that easily.

By this point, I could tell I wasn’t the only one in this situation, so I started doing some mental math to see if I could cancel my order, run out of the store, and pick up a few emergency McMuffins at the Golden Arches near my grandma’s condo.

Unfortunately, there was no way to cancel the order and while I considered walking out and cutting my losses, I decided that, no, I was getting these friggin' bagels.

I was practically leaning into the kitchen to remind them that the handsome guy with the Orlando Solar Bears hat on? Yeah, he needed his bagels,  STAT!

But I guess they didn’t take the hint because they did another round of asking if anyone had mobile orders.

I couldn’t believe it. I was looking around for hidden cameras because, by that point, I was feeling I was possibly being Punk’d or Candid Camera-ed or Impractical Joker-ed. This had to be some kind of show where they mess with people because we're nearing forty minutes of waiting on three bagels, three little cups of cream cheese, and one coffee, and this was after I had told them by way of the app exactly what time I would be there.

For the fourth time, I told them my name, and the guy nodded like he had just made some kind of breakthrough. This bothered me because this isn’t NASA. It’s a bagel place. And not even a bagel place that makes sandwiches. They just put bagels in bags after they toss them in that little bagel-cutter chute (which, if there was a bright side to the experience, it was that thing because it makes a cool noise).

It was 10:10 when this guy finally called my name. Of course, there was one last affront because he looked around like he didn’t know who Matt was.

Yeah, hard to forget the guy who has been standing right in front of you for forty minutes and has told you his name four times.

He handed me my bag of three bagels, but then something occurred to me.

Are you familiar with the "Vertigo" camera move? It was made famous by Alfred Hitchcock in the movie — would you believe? — Vertigo. It involves moving the camera toward the subject and then zooming in or out, which creates a distraction effect. It has been used in other movies, perhaps most famously in Jaws.

Alright, well, that's what I felt when I realized that, despite having the bagels in my possession, I was still without a coffee.

I knew that coffee was going to be a problem. The fiancée doesn’t do black coffee like my grandma whips up at her condo with a can of Folger’s and a Mr. Coffee machine, so she wanted a banana bread latte.

But in the forty minutes I had to stand there, bagel-less, I noticed that the coffee situation was bad. I had heard a lot of people ordering it, and I could see back into the kitchen that only one girl was making them, and she was sloooooooow. 

I considered leaving, but I was in too deep. I was getting that friggin’ latte.

I waited another ten minutes without hearing my name called when I spotted a couple of coffee cups sitting on a counter in the back. They were next to receipts, and since I had my bagel bag with a receipt stapled to it, I figured the latte I was waiting for was still back in the shop, so to speak.

But I still thought I’d ask.

"Hey," I said, flagging down the worker who handed me the bagels. "Any chance one of those coffees is for Matt?"

"Let me see," he said.

He perused the receipt and then grabbed a coffee that had to have been sitting there since before he handed me the bagels.

"Here," he said. "If it’s not hot, let us know."

Sure, I thought. I bet you guys will get right on that.

I got back to the car, gave my fiancée her coffee (which was no longer hot), and started regaling her with the same tale I’ve now told you with some bonus griping about mobile ordering apps.

What a debacle. This is what I get for picking up my own food, so I don’t pay through the nose for it, because I saw multiple Doordash, Uber Eats, and Postmates (is that one still around?) drivers being helped while impatiently tapping my Croc-ed foot.

That last bit may have been a mistake on my part. A foam-molded shoe is quiet, so it doesn’t do a great job of letting people know you’re impatient via tapping.

I swore I would never go back to that bagel place, and that’s why what follows is the perfect icing on this turd cake of an experience: the bagels were great and enjoyed by all.

Had they sucked, it would have been easy to say, "Yeah, f–k this place," but nope. 

I drove past it yesterday and had to talk myself out of checking in on them to see if they'd changed their ways.

Ugh. What a nightmare. 

Some poor elderly woman was in the store that day and was there to pick up two dozen bagels. As far as I know, she might still be in there.

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Whew, felt good to unload that one. Be sure to send in your gripes for next week’s edition of The Gripe Report. 

You can do that on any of your favorite social media sites or by emailing them to matthew.reigle@outkick.com.